


There's Only One Bed

by jarjarbinks



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: AU where Spain was nicer to Geri and he never left the NT, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarjarbinks/pseuds/jarjarbinks
Summary: The Spain NT spend a few days at a hotel for an unspecified training something that is really just a plot device for an unapologetic bed-sharing fic.
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	There's Only One Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AndalusianSunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/gifts).



> A belated birthday gift for my dear friend 🤗

The man behind the reception counter looked at the small group in front of him apologetically. “I’m afraid we’ve had a slight accident with the pool since you first made the reservations,” he said. “You must understand, this is a very busy time of the year. We still have rooms available for all of you, of course, but one of the remaining rooms has only one bed.”

Sergio shrugged. “Not a problem,” he said. He turned to the rest of the group of stragglers with him and flashed them a bright grin. “As captain, I’ll happily sleep with any of you.” If his eyes lingered a little longer on Gerard as he spoke, no one commented.

Isco glanced around at the group. “Anyone eager to sleep with the captain?” When no one jumped at the offer, he held out the bag of carrot sticks he was holding. “I guess we’re drawing straws then.”

Sergio narrowed his eyes as everyone reached into the bag. “I’m not forgetting that no one volunteered for this.”

Jordi drew the shortest carrot stick. “Hey, Geri, let me see your carrot for a second,” he said, reaching over and plucking it out of the taller man’s hands before he could respond. He took a large bite of the carrot stick before depositing it back into Gerard’s hand. “Looks like Geri’s stuck with him,” he announced, and everyone nodded in agreement, moving forward to take their key cards and heading for the elevators, ignoring Gerard’s indignant cries. 

Jordi patted Sergio on the shoulder as he passed him and leaned in to speak quietly in his ear. “You can thank me later,” he said. 

Sergio turned his attention to Gerard, who was waving his nub of a carrot in the direction of the closing elevator doors and shouting something about checking VAR. “Shall we?” he asked, grinning wolfishly. Gerard disgruntledly shoved the carrot into his mouth and followed Sergio into the elevator, still muttering something about unfair treatment and injustice. Sergio shook his head at him as he pressed their floor number. “As usual, Geri, no one’s listening,” he said.

Gerard shot him a grin. “Just wait till I tweet about it later,” he said.

~

Sergio was already in bed by the time Gerard came out of the bathroom. He patted the spot beside him, flashing Gerard a bright smile. “Come to bed, miarma,” he purred.

Gerard laughed. “This is why no one wanted to sleep with you,” he said.

“Because I’m irresistible?”

“Because you’re incorrigible.”

Sergio’s smile grew. “I can’t argue with that,” he said. He turned his attention back to the book on his lap as Gerard finished getting ready for bed.

“I didn’t know you knew how to read, Sergio,” Gerard said as he finally slid into bed next to the Sevillan. He glanced over at Sergio’s reading material. “Oh, it’s a picture book,” he said, nodding in understanding. “That makes more sense.”

Sergio shot him a look. “Someone wants to sleep on the couch.”

“If only that were an option.”

Sergio held the book up for him to see. “It’s about art, Geri. You should read it sometime. Expand your tiny mind.” He placed the book back on his lap and flipped the page.

Gerard leaned over to look at the pictures more closely. “Those are creepy as hell.”

“They’re beautiful!”

“You find beauty in bizarre places, tío.”

Sergio laughed. “You have no idea,” he muttered. He closed his book with a sudden snap and tossed it onto the bedside table. “Alright, time for lights out. We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“But I was looking forward to painting each other’s nails,” Gerard pouted.

“Tomorrow,” Sergio said, shooting his bedmate a final grin before he flicked off the lights and tucked himself under the covers, trying to ignore the unsteady pounding of his heart as he felt Gerard settle next to him. 

~

It was the final of the World Cup, and the fate of the match depended upon Sergio’s penalty. The pride of his country rested solely on his shoulders. He stepped up, his foot struck the ball, and – 

“ _Joder_ , tío!”

Sergio snapped awake, blinking blearily into the darkness. “Geri?” he mumbled.

“You _kicked_ me!” Gerard said, his voice far too loud and indignant for Sergio’s sleepy brain.

“Shh,” Sergio soothed. “No I didn’t.”

“Sergio, I was right here. I felt you kick me.”

“Was taking a penalty,” Sergio insisted, his eyes drifting closed again. Or maybe they already were closed. He couldn’t be sure. “Had to win the World Cup.”

He vaguely thought he heard Gerard snort. “And did you score?”

“We’ll never know now,” Sergio grumbled with as much venom as he could muster, which to his ear was quite a satisfactory amount. He sunk back into sleep with the sound of Gerard’s laughter wrapped around him like a warm blanket.


End file.
